


Of a Speculative Nature

by olga_eulalia



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, M/M, Masturbation, Money, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 21:35:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12418635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olga_eulalia/pseuds/olga_eulalia
Summary: Unbeta'd. Non-native speaker writing here.





	Of a Speculative Nature

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. Non-native speaker writing here.

Except for the ink staining his fingers, his body was clean, his sweat crisp. A whiff of battle, of smoke and metal, sometimes lingered in the thick of his hair and in the folds of his clothing. He was wont to kiss Silver sweetly on the side of his neck where it was most tender and cradle his body with gentle hands as if it were a fragile parcel. Yet he fucked deep and hard, and knew how to make Silver come on his dick.

Flint was the one patron Silver would not part with without protest.

Once or twice, gingerly removing his legs from Flint’s shoulders, Silver, in an addled state, had entertained fancies of recompense. He might be getting paid for providing a service and whether he was attracted to his client or not ought to have no influence on his performance, but if Flint somehow managed to make him excited just at the thought of him, and not only because he could make a kiss on the mouth be as effective as a hand down Silver’s silk trousers, if Silver’s breaths came a little faster at the mere sight of his favourite, returned from the sea, mounting the stairs with one hand on the hilt of his sword, eyes tempting like a dare while he took each step with strategic deliberation, surely that was not something to be taken for granted?

 

On the bed, jostled into the space between Silver’s bare thighs, Flint held another doubloon up to the light and then placed it on Silver’s belly so that it kissed the upper arch of the navel from above. He watched it lie there for a moment, watched it rise and fall in the rhythm of Silver’s quickened breaths, before he added another one of its kind to it, and then another, making the potential reward a rather generous one already and making it, in turn, very difficult for Silver who had to slow down his measured strokes even further in order to contain his excitement.

“Think you can reach that?” Flint peered at him, fingertips glancing over his latest addition.

Against the red backdrop of Silver’s bed, his features were of a mind-boggling brilliance as sunset fell on them through a sliver in the curtain, changing the colour of his eyes into a vivid sea-green and turning his beard bright orange, his lips pale pink. Freckles crowded on his arms, were scattered across his chest, but gradually decreased in volume the further down his body tapered to his white underpants where the skin was soft and tender and kisses made him groan, where the shape of his hard dick, gorgeous and hefty like the rest of him, now pushed against the linen.

“Certainly,“ Silver answered, pointedly serene, snaking a leg around Flint’s waist while he eyed the coins on his abdomen to make sure they did not dislodge themselves during his attempt to pull Flint closer. One of them was about to slip off already. "If you fucked me, however–”

Flint lifted a stern eyebrow at him.

Silver dropped his leg and his head back into the sheets and sighed, providing a bit of a show.

An exercise in patience was nothing new, after all. Even with Flint primed and ready from the first kiss, as he usually was, it seemed impossible to accelerate the progress of events, and as long as Silver’s attempts at steering them according to his will kept misfiring, their trysts would always remain a source of frustration for him.

As a meagre consolation, Flint gave him two more gold pieces to attain to, placing the second in the centre of his chest. “How about this one? You think you can reach it?” A hint of wiliness twinkled in his eyes, twitched in the pointy ends of his mustache. Distracted by such roguish charm, one could easily forget that all those shiny coins had been raked in by means of violence and coercion.

"Please,” Silver said, aiming for nonchalance, but missing by a considerable margin.

He put one hand between his legs, two fingertips to his taint and nudged them in. Habit almost made him reach further down and give himself something to writhe down onto, which would have been disastrous; would have not only broken the agreement he had with Flint, but also ruined over a week’s worth of monumental restraint, when it was the promise of having it done for him good and proper that had made him so well-behaved in the first place.

Flint guided Silver’s thighs further apart, holding him open to his gaze, eager to see. “Fuck,” he said, readjusting his grip a tad crudely. “There’s not an inch of you that’s not pretty.” Without taking his eyes off Silver, he loosened the drawstring on his underpants and reached inside, knuckles straining against the fabric as he soothed himself. His jaw worked as though he was going to alter his plans after all and suck cock until Silver was a begging, incoherent mess.

It wouldn’t be the worst of outcomes, really. Silver, at his most attentive, held his breath.

“You’ve been waiting for me?” Flint asked.

“Yes,” Silver breathed out.

Not having to lie was quite something. Excitement at the prospect of Flint sinking into him, filling him, heavy and thick, and fucking him open had his nipples perking up, his cockhead blurting out drops of precome with every tug and twist of his hand so that his palm produced a delicate, slick noise sliding up and down on his dick.

“Spent all week without letting anyone touch you–” Flint was relentless now, smoothing a hand down into the crook of Silver’s groin, running a fingertip over Silver’s knuckles and coaxing Silver’s fingertips to his tight little sphincter. “Where you need it most.”

A pulse of pure want swept through Silver when, lashes lifting, Flint locked eyes with him as he continued to probe for the truth. “Next time, you’re going to let me watch you stretch yourself open. Let me see how you try to stuff yourself with those gorgeously thick fingers of yours. Do you know how many you can take?”

Silver licked his dry lips. “Four, I think.”

Flint made a rumbly noise deep down in his throat. “I think you should try to take one more.” Eyes glinting, he leaned over Silver like something dangerous lowering itself to feed, filling Silver’s field of vision, his senses, with the sumptuous, dramatic delights of him. “Or would you want me to try for you?”

There was a lump in Silver’s throat that he could hardly swallow past. His breaths sounded harsh and shivery to his ears as he kept jerking himself wetly with his legs spread open wide on Flint’s thighs.

In his line of work, he had done a lot of stuff, stuff that would make even a hardened pirate blush just hearing about it, so he couldn’t really say why this affected him so much or what about the situation had him so ready to shoot his load all of a sudden that speech was difficult, his tongue chasing fragments of words like crumbs around his mouth. If only there wasn’t space yet for one more doubloon at the top of his chest. If only he didn’t know exactly that Flint would give it to him if he kept going just a little longer.

Of all his clients, it was this man who agitated him the most, because he furthered the possibility of a life in which Silver’s future was not under the lock and key of someone else’s schemes like no other. With this much additional income laid out on his body, with it shimmering on his skin like sunken treasure or fool’s gold in a brook, Silver’s mind was awash in the glow of its potential. If only he could speed up the actualization of his plans.

“No,” he told Flint. “I want to try. While you watch.”

Flint looked pained somehow and pushed himself upright, taking up his former position, scrutinizing Silver. “What else would you try for me?”

A keen shock of pleasure jolted Silver’s body as the first of many ideas poured in. Monosyllabic Flint, who chose to lie back and say things like _mount_ , waiting for Silver to swing his leg over, was much easier to deal with.

“How long would you keep yourself in such an agonizing state just to have this?” Flint asked, holding up the last doubloon between finger and thumb, mesmerizing Silver, who squirmed inside his skin and gasped wordlessly, with its gleam.

It seemed to take forever until he resolved the suspended moment and used the coin to complete the line that ran straight from Silver’s groin up to his throat. But finally, it came to rest cold on feverish skin.

Silver’s eyes rolled back in his head as the inevitability of his release pulled at his tendons like a cramp, gathered on the tip of his tongue behind his teeth. After one last thought in which he remembered to aim properly, he was gone, disappearing to that place inside his mind where it was quiet and peaceful, where he found bliss warming him through and through, and he was floating weightless, even as his climax wrenched at his core, forced his mouth open around a loud noise, and then ebbed, ever so abruptly.

Emerging from that state felt a bit like waking up in a foreign place. It took a long time to get reacquainted with the colours of the room, which were greying now, the sounds and the sweet, spicy smell of the brothel, the feel of his own limbs. Loss of tension let him sprawl like an ocean creature stranded by the tide. He wiggled his toes.

Above him, Flint was holding himself up with one arm. “I must say I’m impressed.” He gave Silver a small, but fetching, wink.

The coins, as they were being collected and set aside, sounded merry, sliding against one another. Silver wondered whether he’d truly earned all of them and reached for his neck, but Flint snatched his hand and calmed it with a kiss to its back. He had that look on his face, the one that had accumulated bit by bit. The one that softened his whole demeanour.

When Silver had first come to know the man, he couldn’t have guessed at its existence, finding him brusque and of a highly sceptical nature. But Silver knew a business opportunity when he saw one and rumour-laden Captain Flint had been well worth the effort.

Though Flint had been close to turning on his heel and walking out of Silver’s room even after it’d taken a month of intricate planning to get him there, he had then revealed himself determined to make the experience a pleasant one; a little bit rusty in responding to Silver’s advances, a little bit rough when he took Silver at first, filling him with a couple of impatient thrusts, but soon moving them like a dream, his strokes long and confident up to the finish, his kisses full of passion and appreciative little groans.

“You know what I like,” Silver said, letting a lazy smirk pull at his mouth.

Flint’s face twitched.

They had always been honest with each other about the nature of their arrangement and Flint, especially, had always seemed very pleased by the absence of any illusions, which was why Silver had used the demystification of his work as a handy tool and never been hesitant to mention his love of coin, but seeing Flint’s eyes now so mirthless in response made something dissatisfied squirm inside of him, urging him to amend his statement somehow.

With a hand on the back of his neck, Flint let himself be pulled down easily enough, but he evaded Silver’s seeking mouth by bending to taste the underside of his chin instead, nipping at the skin there, running his tongue across the stubble, his beard a not unwelcome caress as he placed kisses all the way to the dip at the base of Silver’s throat, licking Silver clean in the process. Silver, with his reasoning still reassembling itself, could not deny that Flint’s hand stroking down his side sparked exhilaration along the way and that being measured by its great span made him feel utterly claimed. And when that touch swept over the curve of his ass and lifted him off the bed so that Flint could fill his hand with one plump cheek and their bodies came sliding together with the smooth caress of skin on skin, he sighed contentedly, all remorse forgotten.

Flint interrupted his exploration and lifted his head. His face was flushed, his eyes glazed with lust. A couple of strands of his hair had sprung loose from their leather string and Silver, stifling his amusement at the sight, brushed them back with his hands, cradling the skull tenderly. Finally, he thought, teasing Flint’s hard-on with the slow drag of his hips. After all, Flint was paying for the privilege to be the only one to enjoy him that particular way, and not too little either since everyone was intrigued by what greater men desired but they themselves could not possess.

“I want to put my mouth on you,” Flint rasped, his fingers slipping down into the cleft between Silver’s buttocks. “Yeah?”

Silver sucked in a breath, not expecting his cock to firm up again so soon. “By all means,” he said, dizzied by how fast he was then put onto his stomach and given a pillow to squish.

 

When it came to parting with information, however, Flint was less generous. His commentary on the very latest was entertaining, but mostly scathing, as though he was reluctant to sound well-disposed towards anyone lest someone should accuse him of having a heart. So one could mainly tell how important a topic was to him by how much it strained him to keep his thoughts to himself and how dear someone was to him by how unhappy it made him to hear them mentioned unfavourably in gossip.

"I’ve got my eye on a prize that might prove a bit of a challenge,” Flint had said.

Silver’s ears had pricked up. He’d masked his interest with a saucy remark, but that sort of coquetry rarely gained any approval from Flint.

Standing in front of the cabinet, pouring a drink, watching it run into the cup like the clearest water, he considered the options available to him. He could offer to find a captain more suitable to the task and by doing so inflame Flint’s competitiveness splendidly, no doubt. Or he could offer reassurance by saying that most pirates on the island were only alive because they chose easy pickings whereas Flint’s skills were truly exceptional and that someone of his calibre had nothing to worry about. He could also choose to take a slightly more subtle approach and talk about the time he’d seen a fistfight break out after someone had insulted Flint’s competence as a captain, use that opportunity to put his own thoughts on the tongues of strangers to find out what exactly such an experienced mariner deemed challenging. This could be the day he coaxed a lucrative lead out of one of the most tight-lipped of clients.

But he did none of these things and instead wondered aloud, “Why not take some other prize, then?”

“I’m afraid that, too, lies beyond choice,” Flint said.

It occurred to Silver that, while he was still barred from being a confidant, any worry that filtered through in Flint’s tone of voice would have to remain assuaged superficially. Sliding the bottle back onto the cherrywood shelf, he paused for a second before he corked it. Then he turned and slowly, on wobbly legs, crossed the room.

Flint, waiting for him on the edge of the bed, took the offered drink and downed a couple of swigs before he wetted a cloth with which he wiped at his beard. He was quiet, contemplative. But his gaze, flashing like crystal from beneath the heavy fringe of his eyelashes, travelled over Silver’s naked body in a manner that said his thirst was far from slaked.

Silver eased himself onto Flint’s lap.

Putting his head back, Flint studied him with unconcealed curiosity. His expression was open, wondering. His lips were parted, kissable. “You’re really not going to ask me about it?”

Silver considered his next words, the heart suddenly jumping in his chest.


End file.
